


The Archduke and the Glorious Dragon

by imaginary_golux



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: Linked vignettes from an alternate universe in which Maia's aunt Shaleän heard that her only nibling had been "pent at Edonomee" and decided to do something about it.Beta by my darling Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw.





	The Archduke and the Glorious Dragon

Maia wakes up on a warm night in early summer, six months after his mother’s death, to the soft creak of his window being opened. He sits up in alarm as the dark shape of someone slides through the gap, no more than a silhouette against the distant stars.

“Art thou Maia Drazhar?” the intruder - a woman, Maia realizes with distant surprise - asks in an undertone.

“I am,” Maia says, just as quietly, straining his eyes to try to see who this person might be. “Who art thou?”

“I am thy aunt Shaleän,” the woman says, chuckling softly. Maia’s ears go flat with shock. He has an _aunt_? “Thy mother Chenelo was my youngest sister, which means thou art my nephew,” she continues, and crosses the room to stand beside the bed. She’s very tall - taller than Setheris, far taller than Mother was - and broad across the shoulders to match. “And hearing that my sister’s son was treated ill, I have come to steal thee,” she finishes.

“To _steal_ me?” Maia squeaks.

“I _am_ a pirate captain, little nephew,” Shaleän says. “Come, gather what thou wish’st to bring along, and let us be gone from this dismal place.”

Maia decides that this must be a dream. An aunt who is really a pirate captain, come to steal him from this dreadful house and Setheris’s cruelty - yes, that is definitely the stuff of dreams. And if it is a dream, there is no harm in cooperating. He scrambles out of bed and pulls on yesterday’s clothing, then hastily unearths the little box which holds all his mementos of his mother from the very back of his wardrobe, where he hopes Setheris will never look. “I am ready, Aunt,” he says.

“Good lad,” she says, and gives him a boost out the window. There’s a horse tethered some distance down the single road that leads to Edonomee, and she lifts him onto it and mounts behind him with easy grace and strength. “Hold tight now, nephew,” she murmurs. “We’ve many leagues to go before we reach Solunee-over-the-Water, and the _Glorious Dragon_ , and thy new home.”

*

Csevet steps onto the deck of the ship warily. He’s used to horses and carriages and even airships, but boats are not his specialty. At least this ship is docked, and therefore only swaying a very little bit.

A tall, broad-shouldered goblin woman in a truly magnificent hat steps in front of him, brawny arms crossed over her chest. “And what might you be doing on our ship?” she inquires. Csevet gives her a very careful bow.

“We are looking for Maia Drazhar, Captain,” he says. One of the few things the frantic investigation that led him here did manage to turn up was a small painting of the Great Avar’s daughters, and if this woman is not Shaleän Sevraseched, he will eat his own hair-ribbons.

Someone steps forward out of the crowd of sailors further down the deck, and Csevet and Captain Sevraseched both turn to look. The young man joining them is tall - nearly as tall as Captain Sevraseched, and she towers almost half a head over Csevet - and his skin, naturally dark, has been tanned almost true goblin-black from years in the sun. He moves with easy grace on the gently swaying deck. His hair is braided tightly back in a sailor’s style, to keep it from tangling in the ropes, and there are gold hoops in his ears, and his eyes - his eyes are true Drazhadeise grey.

“We are Maia Sevraseched, first mate of the _Glorious Dragon_ ,” he says to Csevet, “but we were Maia Drazhar, many years ago.”

Csevet swallows hard. He has no idea how this young man - first mate on a pirate ship, his long-fingered hands callused from ropes and the hilt of the short sword at his side, claiming not his father’s name but his aunt’s - is going to react to the message Csevet bears, but there simply aren’t any better options. After the crash, after the horror that was Tethimar and the Archduchess (may the goddesses help her heal), after poor Varenechibel V - there simply isn’t anyone else in the line of succession closer than third cousins, unless one follows a distaff line, and that way lies civil war. Everyone knows it.

Maia Drazhar is the last living son of Varenechibel IV, and after the last year, no one in the Untheileneise Court is going to speak against _anyone_ who might be able to take the throne and _hold_ it, before the empire dissolves into the chaos that they can all see looming on the horizon, like a killing blizzard.

Very carefully, as gracefully as he can despite the unfamiliar footing, Csevet kneels in the full prostration, and says, loudly and clearly, knowing his words will change the world but not having any idea _how_ -

“Your Imperial Serenity.”

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more of this if the plotbunnies bite.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Pirate Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22570042) by [imaginary_golux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux)




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